


Everybody Wants Somebody (Who Doesn't Want Them)

by ChemWitch



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Dirty Talk, F/M, Hate Sex, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Swearing, dubcon (they've been drinking), shane has a potty mouth, spoilers (for shane's heart events) in second chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 11:24:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19440484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChemWitch/pseuds/ChemWitch
Summary: The new farmer shows up every time Shane goes to the Saloon and he's fed up with it. He decides to leave her to it and go to his spot at the cliffs.Or, The One Where I Write Hate Sex.(TW: alcohol, gendered insults, copious amounts of swearing)





	1. Chapter 1

A few beers in at the Stardrop, he came back from the bathroom and she was in his spot. Of course she was.

“Don’t you have work to do?” 

For fuck’s sake, she was so annoying. Shane was just trying to have a goddamn drink. He put himself right in the corner, where everyone could see he didn’t want to be fucking bothered. And yet, the farmer continued to come up to him. Every goddamn day. Just for some shit small talk. Why didn’t she just go bother someone else, for Yoba’s sake? Any other person in this town would be glad to buy her a drink and talk her ear off all night. That’s how Shane knew she was just doing it to be an irritation.

Because apparently his life didn’t suck enough, so now he couldn’t even get drunk in peace.

“As it turns out, I do not.” She was pretty, sure, toned and tan from farm work, face framed with straight brown hair, blue eyes that brightened when she spoke to people she liked. Around Shane, she seemed to dull down, become harder. It wasn’t a surprise to him. That happened to people around Shane. Which is why he didn’t understand why she wouldn’t just leave him alone. 

She made no motion to leave the spot that Shane had claimed every night for years. His spot. He briefly contemplated fighting with her over it, but honestly it just wasn’t worth the effort. He had beers at home. He didn’t need to deal with this. She was just some pretty city girl faking at country life, stuck on him because he wouldn’t give her the attention she wanted. He’d met her type - so beautiful they always got what they wanted, and vicious the first time it didn’t happen. 

“Alright. Enjoy the spot!” His voice was too loud and the bitterness of it rang in his ears. He was just so angry. He left the bar, walking too fast and almost tripping at the door. His blood was racing, he could feel his face getting hot. Yeah, it was a small thing, but this was his thing. His only thing. Until that witch had come here and taken it from him. 

He practically ran home and grabbed a six-pack from the back of the fridge, where he had been hiding it. Marnie was still at the counter and said something to him, but he couldn’t hear it over the roaring in his ears. He didn’t even spare her a glance before slamming the door behind him. 

He opened one of the beers and tucked the rest under his arm. He stopped in his tracks to drain the can, drop it on the ground and smash it underneath his foot. He stomped it once more for good measure, relishing the violence of the act, the small release of anger. 

He felt a little better, but Yoba he was still so full of rage. He had been able to live his life like this, one step from boiling over, until she had gotten here. Everyone had avoided him, and he had liked it that way. When he first arrived in the valley, he had made sure everyone was very clear about one thing: do not talk to Shane. All the villagers had been more than happy to follow that simple rule until her. She just couldn’t leave well enough alone. She had only lived in this god-forsaken hellhole for three weeks and she’d spent every day making his life even more miserable. 

Shane didn’t like anyone, but he really didn’t like her.

He let out a breath as he reached the cliffs, backing off of the frenzy he’d been building up inside himself. 

He sat, legs dangling. He opened another beer and drained it. He didn’t want to have to go back to Marnie’s so soon. His hands were shaking, but slowly he felt himself relaxing back to his normal, under-the-surface rage. By the end of the second beer he was able to let out another shaky breath and focus on the water, letting go of thoughts of her. Mostly. He opened a third, taking a swig but pacing himself better on this one.

He’d finished most of the third and was feeling pretty buzzed when he heard the scoff. He turned, but he didn’t need to. He knew who the scoff belonged to. 

“Enjoy the spot? Really?” She had been sitting a little further down along the cliffs. He should have seen her but he had been too focused on getting his anger under control. Even now, just seeing her, he felt it rising again. 

She obviously knew he didn’t want to be bothered. Did she really hate him so much on sight that she had to make the one thing that brought him a tiny speck of joy something else that made him miserable? 

She stood, brushing dust from her shorts, briefly drawing his eye to her long, tan legs. “What, nothing to say?” she taunted. 

She practically stalked over to him. He was on his feet before he knew what had happened. His blood was hot again, hotter than before, it was too much. They were standing face to face. Her blue eyes burned bright with anger of her own. What the fuck did she have to be mad about? She was the one who came over here to bother him, not the other way around. A moment of silence ticked by as Shane tried to get himself under control. As he tried to remind himself of who he wasn’t going to be. 

He clenched his fists and his teeth. “What is your problem?” He asked shortly, the words staccato. 

She wasn’t to be moved. “What’s yours?” She countered, so smoothly that it was hard to believe the anger he saw in her eyes. 

And then she kissed him. 

It was that quick. So lightning fast that it jarred him. One moment he was preparing to spit more venom in her direction, the next her hands were in his hair, her mouth on his, kissing him desperately. He reacted thoughtlessly, wrapping his arms around her waist, returning everything she gave. 

He pulled away, panting, off-balance and trying to figure out what the hell was happening. “What the fuck are you-” doing, he thought as she lunged at him and cut him off. Her hands were on his belt, fumbling with the buckle. God, she was fucking clumsy. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled, breaking their kiss, tilting her head back. She whimpered, just a little, and the sound went straight to his cock. 

He brought his lips to her neck and grazed his teeth on her ear. “You are so fucking irritating, do you know that?” His voice was dark.

He pulled back just in time to see her gaze harden at the insult. She shoved him to the ground, strong for her size. She said nothing, but undid his belt much more deftly now that she was focused. 

She stood and quickly shed her clothes, staying still for a moment after she was finished, as if giving him a chance to look at her.

So he did. Scanning her up and down, he snorted. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, sweetheart. If you’re trying to impress me, you’ll have to try a little harder.” He was harder than a rock, which gave away the lie, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of a compliment after what she’d done.

She practically snarled as she dove for him. She undid his pants and violently shoved them down to his knees. He lifted his hips slightly to allow it. 

She sat in his lap, grinding against him. He nearly groaned, but caught himself just in time. She deserved nothing, and that’s what she would get.

Observant, she noticed his barely bit-back groan and ground her hips against his again, hard. This time, a low moan escaped him.

Not to be outdone, he leaned forward and captured her nipple in his mouth. He put one hand on her hip, holding her still, his other hand on the ground to hold them up. His shoulders were going to hurt like hell when this was done, but he couldn’t be bothered about it.

He heard her gasp as he ran his tongue over her, felt her stiffen beneath him. He lapped at her, gratified when she couldn’t hold it in anymore and let out a string of mewls and pants. Her hips were grinding against his unconsciously and it felt so goddamn good, but breaking her was too important. He had to focus.

He caught her nipple between his teeth and was rewarded with a loud squeak. She pulled away from him when he snickered, as if remembering that this wasn’t for fun. She glared at him with hard eyes when she saw the smirk on his face. 

“You are such a fucking pig,” she spat. 

He shrugged, eyes closed, head back, too drugged out from booze and sex to get properly angry, but not willing to let her slide. “And you’re a bitch who doesn’t leave well enough alone.” 

She lifted her hips off of him, and the loss of contact was the worst thing he’d ever felt. He raised his head, opening his eyes, realizing the game was over and he would need to take care of this himself, finish his six pack, and go home. 

Instead, he saw her just out of arm’s reach, sitting on her knees and draining one of his beers. She noticed him looking and flipped him off. 

Somehow, the sight was maddening. Shane reached down and stroked himself, watching her. When she saw, her eyes flared. She made eye contact with him as she dropped to all fours and crawled back over. He let go of himself so she could get back on his lap.

She climbed onto him and immediately sank down onto his cock, biting her lip. Shane groaned and it was her turn to smirk, but he could hardly bring himself to care about their stupid game anymore. The beers had fully hit and she felt so goddamn good around him.

She rode his cock hard, lifting her hips up high and slamming them back down sharply. Shane tried to meet her with his own thrusts, but was quickly told to fuck off.

He leaned back onto his elbows, and enjoyed the feel of her, the sight of her. Surprising himself, he slurred, “You look damn good fucking yourself on me.” His voice was gravelly, hoarse from the want. 

In another surprise, she whined his name when he said it, and it was so fucking hot that he almost came right there. He bucked his hips against her. 

“Do it again,” he said breathlessly. 

Ever defiant, all he got back was, “Make me.”

He sat up and lifted her off him, both of them making small noises at the loss. He pushed her onto all fours, positioned himself behind her and grabbed her hips, roughly pushing himself inside her.

She gasped, and gasped again when he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. And she did do it again. “Shane…”

He fucked her with sloppy, drunken thrusts, but she didn’t seem to mind. They had both lost all pretense at the game of earlier and were both moaning with each thrust. He gave her hair another tug and the angle of his hips must have been just right, because she started begging and Yoba, it was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard.

“Shane, please, oh Yoba Shane, please don’t stop. Don’t stop, please, I’m so close, please…” 

He did his best to keep hitting the right spot. He wanted her to beg him forever, but he was so close and he wanted her to come for him. A vague thought that he hated her and needn’t be concerned with her tickled the back of his mind, but was quickly brushed away as he hit her sweet spot once more and he was met with a flood of nonsense pleas.

He bent forward as best he could while not stopping and said lowly, “Come for me, pretty girl.”

“Yes, Sir.” Her breathy response was immediate and his cock twitched inside her when she called him that. He groaned. 

He thrust inside her one more time and she shattered. She convulsed around him, practically screaming his name as she came. He fucked her through it, barely able to keep himself contained. When she finally, finally angled her hips away because she was too sensitive, he pulled out of her. And immediately came onto her back.

They stayed still for a minute, both panting.

She was first to recover. She rocked up to her knees, then stood and faced him, not reacting to his seed dripping down her back. 

He cleared his throat. “Sorry about that.” He nodded towards her… situation. He was sitting on his knees, still breathless. Tomorrow he would agonize over these moments and what they had meant. Today, he was just too buzzed.

She collected her clothes and put them back on, a little wobbly but staying upright. “I’m not worried about it.” She’d wiped herself off with her underwear, and kept them balled up in her fist. “It’ll wash out, or something.”

Shane had made no effort to move. He felt like he had one more amend to make. He took a deep breath in. He tried not to slur his words as he said, “And I’m sorry I made out that you were… unimpressive to look at. It wasn’t true and I shouldn’t’ve said it.” He started off strong but by the end it was mostly mumbles.

She laughed, much to his surprise. “That’s what you’re thinking about?” She stopped laughing for a moment, but couldn’t keep it up. Before long, she was doubled over, cackling. 

Despite himself, he thought she had a pretty laugh. Also, he had no idea what was happening. He waited, watching her work through it, try to take a serious face, and then dissolve into giggles again. 

When she finally held on to a semi-serious face, she was still smiling. “You’re drunk, Shane. We’re both drunk.” She paused. “So you’re not sorry for saying I’m fucking irritating? Or a bitch who doesn’t leave well enough alone?” 

By now, the afterglow was leaving Shane and he was remembering just how annoying she could be. “Nope. Sorry for lyin’. Those weren’t lies.” The words came out right, but the venom he’d had just wasn’t there anymore. Maybe because he was exhausted.

She laughed again. “Well, can’t blame you there. Hey, let me see your phone.” 

He vaguely asked why but handed her the phone anyway. She typed something out and handed it back to him.

“I’m gonna head back. It’s late, and farm work isn’t very forgiving about days off. Read the note tomorrow, Shane. I’ll see you around.” She grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet, helping him get his pants back on.

“I coulda done it, you know,” he grumbled. “This ain’t the first time I’ve been drunk.”

She looked at him for a long moment. “I know,” she said simply. “Get home safe.” 

He snorted and started off toward Marnie’s, shoving his phone in his pocket. He glanced back when he had almost made it and thought he could see her walking a little bit behind him, making sure he was making his way alright.

But he was pretty sure it was just a drunken fantasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for enduring My First Smut™
> 
> I'm doing my one millionth playthrough of SDV and got to thinking how Shane would feel about me constantly trying to be friends with him. Then this happened.
> 
> All credit to SDV for Shane and the cliffs, and all that. Title credit to the song Everybody Wants Somebody by Patrick Stump.
> 
> I have no beta and this was a one shot, all mistakes are mine but please be gentle.
> 
> Comments make the world go 'round, friends <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I call this chapter "Oops! All angst!" 
> 
> Shane doesn't know what to think about his drunken tryst with the farmer. Also, he can't really remember it. But when she stops showing up to the Saloon, he's pretty sure it was just a power move.
> 
> SPOILERS FOR SHANE'S THREE HEART EVENT. Like, the whole event. I worked it into the story. Please don't read this chapter if you're avoiding spoilers!
> 
> TW: Alcohol abuse/dependence and like, a lot of swearing. A lot.

Shane’s alarm was his worst enemy.

He groaned, stretched, rolled over and shut off the alarm clock. And then panicked because when did it get to be 7 AM?! He had to be out of the house in 10 minutes!

He dressed quickly, head pounding. On his way out of the house he grabbed a beer. Just to help with the hangover. What Joja didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

Cracking it open, he walked and drank slowly, taking his time before another soul-sucking day at JojaMart.

As he woke a little more, he remembered the night before. The Saloon. The cliffs. The farmer.

What the fuck had happened? How had he ended up fucking the person in town he liked the very least? 

He spent the whole day stocking and agonizing over each moment he could remember from last night.

She’d kissed him first (he thought). What did that mean? Was she just drunk and looking for company? She certainly couldn’t have any interest in him. He snorted at the thought. He was a) fat, b) old, and c) mean as a hornet. That option was out. 

But then why had she met him at the cliffs? Why not stay out at the Saloon, or wander out to another guy’s place?

As the hours wore on, he recalled more, but he couldn’t be sure if his memories were entirely accurate. They were pretty fuzzy in some places. He was pretty sure he remembered the sex. And that the sex was very, very good. 

But as far as what had happened after the sex, he wasn’t… as sure. He didn’t really remember making it home. Not that uncommon for him, but then again usually he didn’t spend his nights having hot, drunk sex. 

His head hurt, his throat was dry, and he was done agonizing over what had happened the night before. He snatched some medicine from the Joja breakroom and took it with a cup of water from the cooler. Maybe he’d remember more as his hangover subsided.

After work, he headed over to the Saloon, half-dreading seeing her, but half-hoping she’d be there. Standing in his spot after a few beers. Persistent and annoying as ever.

She never showed.

Shane knew he should be happy, but he mostly just felt bad. He knew he’d been pretty drunk, but he didn’t think the sex had been that bad. And if she wasn’t avoiding him because of the bad sex, then…

It hit him all at once. She’d gotten what she wanted from him. He was so stupid. Stupid for ever letting it get this far, stupid for letting himself get his hopes up, for what? He’d hit the nail on the head with his first assessment of her - she was just a mean girl. Beautiful, but vindictive. He hadn’t given her what she wanted the first time she wanted it, so she did this to break him.

And even if he didn’t want to admit it, he felt a little more broken. He should have known better, but he’d spent the whole day agonizing over what had happened and at some point he’d accidentally assigned meaning to it. It didn’t mean anything. It was just sex, it was just payback, and now he could go back to drinking in peace. 

At least there was that. 

A week passed with no sign of her, then two. Where she used to stop at the Saloon every night to chat with the patrons, give gifts, and show off cool items she’d found, now she was nowhere to be seen. And as much as he hated himself for it, he kind of missed her annoying presence. Any time he went to the bathroom he came back hoping (just a little) that she’d be standing in his spot when he got back. She never was.

So Shane resigned himself to going back to his previous routine. Work, Stardrop. On the weekends, food, Pierre’s, Stardrop. He got drunk as often as he could, maybe even more than before. He found himself drinking at Marnie’s, in his room. He used to try to avoid drinking where Jas might see him but now he just couldn’t bring himself to care. Then he stopped going to the Saloon altogether, opting to just bring beers home and drink them alone in his room.

He realized it was pathetic to let his joke of a life fall apart even more because of a one night stand with a girl he didn’t even like. He realized it, and hated himself for it, but that didn’t stop it from happening. This was just his life now, and there was some sad comfort in killing himself a little more everyday with no one caring or bothering him about it.

That is, until he spluttered awake when someone poured water from a watering can on his head.

“What the fuck?” He jumped up. At some point, he’d passed out on the floor of his room. He looked around, wondering what had just happened. 

He saw her. With Marnie. Standing in his room, looking at him with wide blue eyes. He stood, staring at her, dumbfounded and still a little dazed. He was definitely drunk. This wasn’t real, it was just a weird, drunk hallucination.

After a moment, Marnie spoke first. “Shane, what’s the matter with you? All you do anymore is mope around your room and drink beer!” 

Shane turned around, clenching his fists. Okay, so this was real. His hallucinations would have used a lot more profanity. An angry knot formed in his stomach. He didn’t know how to explain himself, and honestly, he didn’t want to. He wanted her to get out of his room, and he wanted her to take the farmer with her. Just let him self-destruct in peace. 

“You wouldn’t understand.”

Marnie sighed. “I’m worried… What’s your plan? Don’t you ever think about the future?” 

“Plan? Hopefully I won’t be around long enough to need a ‘plan’,” Shane said bitterly, snorting.

Marnie and the farmer both gasped. Jas, who he hadn’t realized was in the room at all, let out a wail and ran from the room crying. Marnie sighed again, shook her head, and left the room to follow Jas.

“Jas… I’m sorry…” Shane looked down at the floor. The anger he’d felt a moment ago was gone, replaced by the cold, slimy feeling of guilt he felt any time he saw Jas. 

When he looked up again, he was surprised to see the farmer still standing in his room, watching him. She said nothing, just watched. 

“What are you still doing here? The show is over. Go back to your life.” Shane tried to be angry with her, but he was still drowning in guilt over how he’d made Jas feel. The words didn’t come out as firey as he’d intended them, but they were still bitter and hard. Just like him.

Still she said nothing. She opened her mouth once, twice, as if searching for words, but closed it both times. 

Now he was getting fed up. Just the sight of her reminded him of that stupid, drunken night, and how he’d let her mess with his head. He closed his eyes and swayed for a moment before speaking. “Look, can you please just go? I’m sayin’ please. If you’re just here to gloat, or tell me how easy it was, or whatever, can you just not? Trust me, I know. I know.” His voice broke just a little bit on the last words. 

She turned and walked to the door, but didn’t leave. Instead, she closed it and turned back around. She opened her mouth a third time, took a deep breath, and finally said something.

“You never called me.” There was hurt in the words. She sounded small. “You… you could have called me.”

Called her? The fuck was she talking about? For starters, he didn’t have her phone number. Secondly, she did not ask him to call her. Ever. What she’d done instead was annoy him into having great sex and then avoid him for weeks. Well, not exactly avoid him, but stop being annoyingly everywhere he was. She didn’t get to come in here and sound hurt by him. She didn’t get to come in here and act like he’d done something to her after what she’d done to him.

His drunk mind had a hard time forming a response, but eventually he slurred out, “Dunno what you’re on about,” and then stumbled to his bed and fell onto it face-first.

He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling, very aware of the fact that she hadn’t left.

When she responded, she had hardened back into the angry farmer he was familiar with, and he couldn’t help but be grateful for the change. Angry, he could deal with. Angry was his thing. 

“You’d really rather live like this?” He didn’t raise his head to look at her, but he saw the shadows on the ceiling gesture toward a pile of empty beer cans, then at him. “This is really what you want? I… I get it if you weren’t interested, or whatever, but I just wanted to help you. And instead, when I try, you try to destroy yourself even more than before. I know I can’t fix you or anything, but you never even called. You didn’t even acknowledge me. I couldn’t get a text with just the letter ‘k’.” She laughed sardonically, bitterly. 

He took a moment to take in what she’d said. He took another to consider it. He took a third to be absolutely, no-holds-barred dumbfounded. He felt rage well up inside him. How dare she come in here and act like she had any idea what he wanted? How dare she come in here and act like she’d done nothing wrong? Yeah, he was a self-destructive asshole, but she couldn’t come in here and insist he’d been the one to hurt her. It was just patently fucking false and he was certainly willing to set her straight.

He sat up in bed, back to the wall so he wouldn’t fall back over. Yoba, he was drunk. The room spun just a little bit. He waited for it to clear, focusing on the farmer. She was bristling, getting ready for a fight he hadn’t even put up yet. He took a deep breath, trying to make sure he could get the words out without slurring them too much.

“I don’t see where the fuck you get off coming in here to accuse me of wanting to live like this, acting like you wanted me to call you for help whatever bullshit you’re over there spouting. 

“Since we’re remembering what happened very differently, let me give you a reminder of how things went down between us. You spent everyday for three weeks bothering me, trying to talk to me, buying me drinks. I wanted none of it and went down to the cliffs. You went to the cliffs because you have to make my life a living hell, then you kissed me. We fucked, which was admittedly a drunken mistake on my part, and then you absolutely disappeared. This is the first time I’ve seen your fucking face since that night and I’m just gonna repeat that I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about when you come in here with your fake righteous anger about how I never called you. Why would I even have your fucking number? It’s not like we’re friends. You got what you wanted off me. Now get the hell out of my room.” 

Each word burned coming out, like they were soaked in poison. He didn’t want to admit to her that she was part of the reason he was living like this in the first place. That three stupid weeks of seeing her face in his spot everyday made it impossible to go to the Saloon when he knew she wouldn’t be there. He didn’t want to hear her side of the story. He just wanted her to leave. 

She did not leave. She made a frustrated screeching sound, stomped over to him, and put her face directly in his. “You’d have my number because I fucking gave it to you. I honestly don’t know what you think I’d be here to gloat about.” She barked out another bitter laugh. “Do you think your dick is so fucking good that’s all I wanted off you? A drunken one night stand? Do you think I’d bother someone for three fucking weeks straight just for some drunk sex, no matter how good it was? Do you honestly fucking think I’d need to do that? For Yoba’s sake, Shane, you are a thickheaded fucking pig. So, yeah, sit here and pretend like you never had my number. Pretend like I’m just some bitch who wanted to prove a point. If you want to write that night off as, as you put it, “a drunken mistake”, then I guess I’m just about done here.”

She whirled around, hair brushing Shane’s face. He sat there, dazed, thinking only that her shampoo smelled nice. She grabbed his phone off the nightstand, where it had sat untouched and charging for… a long time. He wasn’t sure of the last time he’d looked at it for more than the time. Not like it ever rang.

“You’re telling me you never checked your fucking phone? Not for weeks? I was drunk but not drunk enough to make up writing you that note.”

He said nothing, confused. He reached for the phone and she shoved it in his hands, snorting. He unlocked the phone and saw that the “Notes” app was, indeed, open. And there was something typed out on the screen.

_ You can hate me anytime you need a break from hating you.  _ Followed by a phone number. Her phone number. 

“When did you…?” He looked up, eyes wide with shock, just in time to see the door slam behind her. He backed out of the note and realized that it was written weeks ago. On that night. 

He was an asshole. He realized that when he’d reached for the phone, she probably thought he didn’t want her to look at it. She probably thought he was trying to cover for himself.

He thought back to that night and could vaguely remember her saying that they were drunk and telling him to read the note in the morning. If he’d just remembered that one sentence. If he’d just been a little less drunk. If he’d just looked at his phone.

Sighing, he dropped the phone on the bed, rolled over, and tried to go to sleep. At least he was used to the knot of guilt that had formed in his gut when he read the messages. At least now she could find someone better than him. Anyone else would be. 

And at least now, after today, he knew he really had nothing to live for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I straight up stole Shane's three-heart event dialogue between him and Marnie because I thought it would be a good time to have him and the farmer fight it out. So a lot of dialogue credit to ConcernedApe. These are their characters and settings, I'm just playing with them.
> 
> I wrote this in one sitting. No beta, all mistakes are mine but please stay gentle. Constructive criticism is welcome and I love each and every person who comments on any of my works. 
> 
> (Also because I can't commit to closing a story without a happy ending there is a potential third chapter in the works.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for enduring My First Smut™
> 
> I'm doing my one millionth playthrough of SDV and got to thinking how Shane would feel about me constantly trying to be friends with him. Then this happened.
> 
> All credit to SDV for Shane and the cliffs, and all that. Title credit to the song Everybody Wants Somebody by Patrick Stump.
> 
> I have no beta and this was a one shot, all mistakes are mine but please be gentle.
> 
> Comments make the world go 'round, friends <3


End file.
